


much better than we've had

by futureseaempress



Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Dubious Consent, M/M, Nipple Piercings, They can have a little romance as a treat, Trans Male Character, trans man, vertigo but make it sexy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-09
Updated: 2020-08-09
Packaged: 2021-03-06 03:06:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,510
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25796359
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/futureseaempress/pseuds/futureseaempress
Summary: mike and gerry meet and gerry thinks he's hotwhat more can i offer u
Relationships: Michael "Mike" Crew/Gerard Keay
Kudos: 55





	much better than we've had

**Author's Note:**

> Before the paragraph gap is just set up for how they meet,,, it’s no biggie if u wanna skip to them smashing I will not blame you
> 
> ALSO i cannot bring myself to write in a dialect that matches these two i am so painfully from the usa

Gerard Keay didn’t date. His line of work didn’t lend itself to lovely evenings and walks in the park. Gerry was more about drunken bar fights and fleeing from leather book spawned terrors. No room for romance. This fact never managed to creep too far under his skin. Occasionally he’d have a fleeting thought, imagine someone comfortably sleeping next to him. Those nights he’d picture himself wrapping his gangly limbs around something warm and solid. Usually, he’d end up getting himself off in the shower. But no yearning equaled what he felt after his first chance encounter with Michael Crew.

Crew, more commonly known as “Mike,” was a broad-shouldered, solid man, with a gaze that held its own against far more gruesome avatars. Gerry Keay had been caught completely off guard when perusing a book shop that rivaled his mother’s in unwarranted involvement with Leitners. There was a slight smell of ozone in the air and Gerry didn’t need any kind of beholding power to know this man had been marked. Mike was crouched down peering at what could have easily been one of the cursed tombs based on the wear and tear of the leather. But judging by Mike’s unimpressed expression Gerry could glean it wouldn’t cause too much trouble. 

Gerry stepped towards Crew, not entirely sure what he was planning to say to him when he shot up. It wasn’t every day that Gerry could encounter someone with goals so similar to his and he was beyond interested in what this man had to offer. 

“Gerard Keay,” he stated, he lifted his chin as he eyed the slender man, quirking an eyebrow as he did it. Gerry wondered to himself what gave him away, was it the easily identified, long, black hair? The trench coat in the dead of summer? The steel-toed boots? 

“I see my reputation precedes me,” Gerry chuckled, “I guess I do make a bit of a spectacle-“ 

“A bit? You absolutely reek of the eye,” Mike gestured to the little eye tattoos scattered around Gerry’s body.

“Not too much knowing needed to catch that one I’ll admit, but look at yourself. Clearly, you’ve had a run-in with one of those damned books.” 

Mike rubbed the scar on his cheek, still on the defensive side. “Three” he said. 

“Wow, not often someone deals with two Leitners and lives to tell the tale.” 

“You’ve managed.” 

“Well I’m not just anybody am I?”

Mike scoffed and his eyes darted back to the book he’d been holding when Gerry arrived, “Well there’s nothing interesting going on here. I’ve already looted through anything that could even possibly be old enough.” 

“Hmm digging for trouble.”

“Not that you’d know anything of it.” 

“I’d like to,” Gerry said, his shoulders loping and his voice dropping just a hair deeper. It was silly, every part of Gerry yearned to take this man home and take him apart piece by piece and he didn’t even have his name. 

“What do you think you want to know?” 

“We could start with your name.” 

“Michael Crew, Mike if I like you,” he didn’t hold his hand out to shake, leaving them firmly planted at his sides. 

“Hello Mike, I’m Gerard Keay, but I’d rather you called me Gerry.” 

“Okay, Gerry… I imagine we both caught wind of a false tip, heard there was a book of clown history and contortionists that really gave the reader a sorry reckoning.” 

“No actually I just like to be thorough, that does sound to be an interesting read though.” 

Mike shuddered at that.

“What? Scared of clowns?”

Mike cracked the faintest smile, “Hardly. It’s the freaky doll element of it all. Uncanny valley, I guess.” 

Gerry leaned around Mike to grab the book that he’d deemed unworthy, his coat brushing against him, “Surely clowns would be better than this, ‘The Servant of Two Masters’ by Carlo Goldoni. Christ, what is this?”

“Unfamiliar with the commedia dell arte?” 

“The what?”

“Here,” Mike took the book from Gerry’s hand and flipped to where there was a long-winded explanation of each of the characters that appeared in the story, “they’re Italian stock characters. Sometimes written into little scenes or plays, usually done in improvised skits, they wear funny looking masks. I took theatre in high school and we had a whole semester on them,” Gerry noted the way Mike’s brow knit together while he spoke about these absurd looking masked characters, and knew no matter the cost he would buy this book just to keep Mike talking about it.

Gerry had accomplished two things before leaving the bookstore. He’d worked the owner into a reasonable sale on the play. He’d also talked Mike into joining him for a drink.

Gerry watched the tension melt from Mike’s shoulders as they talked about nothing in particular. They’d been getting on for almost two hours when a sharp quip at Gerry’s hair made him realize he was tired of waiting. He leaned in and mouthed at Mike’s ear “Would you like to take me home?” 

“Yes,” Mike said, already standing. Gerry dropped some cash on the bar. He slid his hand into Mike’s and led them out to the street. 

Within seconds of arriving at Mike’s apartment, Gerry had crowded him against a wall and was leaving kisses from the base of his neck up to his jaw. Carding his fingers through his curls. Mike whimpered as Gerry found a pulse point and nibbled at it, then sucked a nice purple pansy into the skin. 

Mike grabbed Gerry’s chin and kissed him hard, nearly knocking him backward with the sheer force of it. In return, Gerry gave Mike’s hair a quick tug before pressing him flush against the wall. He pinned Mike’s hands above his head and broke the kiss to mouth at his jaw. Suddenly, Gerry felt the world spin and toppled into a nearby chair. 

“You seemed to have misjudged me, dear,” Mike said, lifting him by his coat. “I have no intention of being underneath you tonight.” He kissed Gerry again, deep and dirty.

Mike straddled him, brushing a hand between his legs, and tugging on his hair to get a better angle at his neck. Gerry was floored. Mike was above him and he felt him everywhere. His hands were in his hair, on his dick, and the room just kept spinning. His senses were slurred together but heightened. He kept hearing a high whine like a dog begging for scraps and it took trying to describe the sound to realize it was him. 

Mike was unbuttoning his shirt when all Gerry’s senses snapped back into place. He wasn’t sure if it was his doing or if Mike had gotten sick of his whimpering, but as he gained a better control of himself he spoke, “I’m good for anything.” His voice was raspier than normal, but that was alright; Mike had his tongue down his throat before he could think of anything else to say.

“Good, cause I’m about ready to have my way with you.” 

“By all means,” Gerry’s dick twitched in his too tight underwear. He meant it when he said anything. Mike could throw him from fifty feet and make him see stars all the way down if it meant he’d let him come afterward. Mike crawled off of him and led him upstairs. Dropping his shirt on the way up. 

In his room Mike opened a drawer and pulled out a long, thick strap on and a bottle of lube. “I hope you don’t mind.”

“No that’s great, I’d rather it be in me than in your hand though.” Mike pushed him towards the bed, turning to strip down to his briefs. Gerry hadn’t removed anything aside from his shoes. He was laid out on Mike’s bed, long black skirt pulled up to his hips, revealing a pair of lacy black panties. 

Mike felt all the air leave his lungs. Gerry was as pretty as a picture. Half of him wanted to tell him so. “You gonna tie all that hair up?” 

“No I like it down, easier to pull it that way.” Gerry removed his coat as he spoke, revealing more eye tattoos at his elbows and his shoulders. His arms were muscular, something Mike hadn’t expected. He realized as he crawled into bed that Gerry could have easily held him up against the wall downstairs and if it weren’t for his own reservations: he’d let him. 

Mike softened as he kissed Gerry again, pulling his thigh across his body and gilding up into his lap. He dragged his hands up Gerry’s thighs, fighting with the fabric of the skirt the whole way there. “You’ll need to take that off if you don’t want me to tear it off you.” 

Gerry gasped in mock horror, “Oh no! Not my favorite skirt!” In reality, he was baiting the other man to do just that, completely charmed by the idea of walking home in a torn off skirt and his hair a mess. “You know I thought it would be hot to watch you try to ruin it,” Gerry grumbled as it hit the floor, “Something sexy about explaining a jizz stain at the dry cleaners.

Mike laughed, “Maybe next time.”

“Maybe,” Gerry added, climbing back into Mike’s lap. Then Mike kissed him like he had before. No restraint. Tongue against tongue, sliding along teeth. Reckless. Something they would have urged to go on forever if they didn’t have to breathe. Mike reached his hand up Gerry’s top, something black with a band logo and the sleeves cut off, and groaned as his fingertips found cool metal. He tugged at the strap of the shirt, “This, take this off.”

‘Yes sir,” he said, throwing the top aside in one swift movement. 

He toyed with the little metal bars, watching Gerry writhe in his lap. After Mike decided he’d had enough of that, he ghosted his hands down the sides of his body and groped his ass. Gerry groaned and pressed himself firmly into Mike’s chest, hoping for a little friction on his cock. But Mike moved him back by his hips, leaving him to rut in his lap. He finally reached for the lube, warming it in his hand before he moved Gerry’s thong out of the way to circle his entrance. 

Mike bowed his head to lap at Gerry’s chest. The silver rings gave his nipples a metallic taste and the noises Gerry made as he played with them were as melodic as they were filthy. He pushed one finger in on a particularly high moan as Gerry’s back arched, grinding himself down onto Mike’s hand. Mike palmed his balls as he slowly added a second finger. Gerry felt the familiar burn but ached for more. “Hurry up,” he snapped, “I want to feel yo-“ he was cut off by a groan as Mike sucked hard on his nipple. Gerry’s upper half was pink and puckered and he couldn’t do much aside from whine as Mike felt inside him. 

“Shhh,” Mike soothed, his lips swollen from the work he’d done on Gerry’s neck and chest. “Patience is a virtue you know,” he muttered as he added a third finger, working Gerry open on his hand while keeping it slow enough to make sure he didn’t come on before he wanted him to. 

Gerry whined as Mike pulled out, trying to grind down on his fingers, but Mike stopped him, guiding his hips up over his lap as he coated the strap with lube. Gerry’s hair draped like a curtain around them as he aligned himself with Mike’s dick. His eyes were closed and Mike took the liberty to give him what he’d been begging for and bucked up into him as he began to slide down. 

Gerry cried out and rocked forward into Mike. 

“Too much?”

“No,” Gerry choked out. “More. Please.” 

With that, Mike began fucking up into Gerry with a fervor he held off with just his hand. Gerry took one of Mike's hands from his hips and moved it up to his chest. Mike complied toying with his nipple ring and brought his other hand to Gerry’s cock. He palmed him through the scant piece of lace, noticing it was soaked all the way through. 

“Fuck, Gerry. You’re absolutely dripping for me.” 

“Who said its for you?” Gerry teased with a roll of his hips. “Maybe I just like to hear myself moan.” Doing this pushed the base of the strap firmly back into Mike. Mike made a punched out sound and tore the lace away from Gerry’s dick wrapping his hand firmly around the base and twisting his wrist up to the head. 

“Do that again,” Mike demanded, rubbing his thumb over the head. Gerry did as he was told. Rolling his hips down harder and harder. Mike took Gerry’s hair by the root and pulled him in for a kiss. “Come on,” he said, mouthing the words into Gerry’s skin. “Come for me.” 

“Need more.” 

“More what?” Mike gave a hard pass at Gerry’s cock and moved to pull his hips as low as they could go. 

“Tell me how I look.”

“Right now? Or when I first saw you? You’re quite the sight either way. All decked out? Do you sport this look every day? Hoping some sorry sop is going to take you home and rail you? Someone’s going to find the whole punk freak thing sexy and let you show off those pretty little panties?” 

“Worked on you,” he moaned again. He was nearing the edge now. All of his nerves were ignited and he knew it wouldn’t be long before Mike pushed him straight over a cliffside. 

“Oh it worked alright. Seeing you in public is one thing, but seeing you like this is something else entirely. All marked up, showing the world what a good little whore you can be.” With that last line and a good twist of his hand, Mike pulled Gerry right out of his skin. He came hot over their chests. Mike gripped him through it and let him crash into his chest when his body relaxed. He ran a hand up Gerry’s spine. 

“What about you?” Gerry panted. He was already squirming and trying to get a good look at Mike. 

“Don’t worry about me, that was a very nice performance, Gerard.” 

“No, I’m serious. How can I get you off?” 

“Maybe next time,” he gave him a soft smile, pushing himself out from under Gerry. “Now I’m going to go shower, you can make yourself comfortable if you’d like.” 

“Promise me first.”

“What?”

“That there will be a next time.”

“That there will be a next time.” 

Mike let out a breath through his nose, “Okay. We can do this again, I promise.”

Gerry grinned and kissed the corner of his mouth, rising to his feet and dressing himself. “I’ll be waiting.” With that he strolled out of the house, walking back to his own flat above his mother’s book store.


End file.
